At Quicken Loans arena Tuesday night, Britney Spears drove into the center of the stage perched atop the windshield of a pink convertible Mini Cooper with a stripper pole erected in its back seat. Attached to that pole was a guy she'd pulled from the audience named Greg, a daddy-ish type in a blue polo shirt. His hands tied behind his back, he had to sit still while Brit wrapped her fishnet-clad thighs around his neck. I got nine lives like a kitty cat." That lyric, from "How I Roll," a nonsensical yet sizzling new single, is hardly hyperbole.
Once written off as the punch line to jokes about washed up superstars, Brit is back - washboard abs and all. The K-Fed loving, paparazzi-whacking, head-shaving antics of years ago are ancient history. With "Femme Fatale," her new No. 1 album, two Video Music Award nominations and a kinetic summer tour, the 29-year-old mother of two is thumbing her darling, turned-up nose at all the haters out there and dancing her toned bum off. They wore naughty Catholic school girl plaid mini skirts and white button-down shirts knotted just under the bosom, hot pants and stilettos. There were more tanned thighs and exposed navels on display than spring break in Cancun.
